


Clueless Misconceptions

by minbins



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate universe - non idols, Brief Cock Stepping, Chanhee fucks Sangyeon and makes him beg for it, Chanhee in a Skirt, Creampie, Embarrassment Kink, Explicit Consent, M/M, Married Couple, Office Worker Sangyeon, Passing Mentions of Heteronormativity via Coworkers, Themed Office Party, crying from pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: “Going to use that big dick to fuck your husband silly, Sangyeonie? Going to blow my goddamn mind?”“No.” Sangyeon goes to hang his head, but the hand in his hair prevents it. His scalp aches a little, and it makes his cock throb. “I’m not.”
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Lee Sangyeon
Comments: 16
Kudos: 199





	Clueless Misconceptions

**Author's Note:**

> in case you haven't seen clueless: [chanhee's outfit](https://twitter.com/minbiins/status/1296093978341842945?s=20)
> 
> meanwhile, [sangyeon's](https://twitter.com/minbiins/status/1297332349710012421?s=20)

“It’s funny, you know,” Chanhee says, “How they think you could ever control me.”

“Please.” Sangyeon looks up at him. He’s knelt at Chanhee’s feet. His gaze trails back down Chanhee’s perfect body, and settles on his glossy white shoes. _“Please,”_ he repeats, one simple word imbued with a world of connotations. Chanhee knows each and every one.

Sangyeon has been on edge all evening, and for good reason. They had made their separate ways to Sangyeon's bi-annual themed office party, so Sangyeon had had absolutely no prior warning as to what Chanhee had chosen to wear. He'd clearly decided to shock the snooty housewives even more than usual, stepping up from the skintight catsuit he'd gone with for last party's _Superhero Evening._ Sangyeon had been plenty shocked himself, though perhaps he should have anticipated something devastating when Chanhee outright refused to give him any hints. 

For the _‘Classic '80-'90s Movie Throwback’_ theme, Sangyeon had just thrown on denim and a red down vest for an easy Marty McFly look. Simple. Classic. Nothing specifically crafted to try and kill his husband. He could have gone for something suit related like last time, but then Sangyeon would have had to cope with Chanhee’s fuck-me eyes for an entire evening around people he works with. The poor receptionist hasn’t been able to look Sangyeon in the eyes since he walked in on him and Chanhee in a particularly Not-Safe-For-Work position in a poorly locked bathroom stall at the previous party. Subsequently, Sangyeon had chosen to err on the side of caution tonight.

_Chanhee? Not so much._

Like the threat to Sangyeon’s sanity that he is, Chanhee had shown up dressed in Cher Horowitz’s iconic yellow plaid outfit from Clueless. _Because, of course he did._ Every detail perfect, right down to the knee-high socks and the white Mary Jane shoes. Skirt so short it put Mrs Johnson’s theme irrelevant ‘sexy bunny’ costume to shame, Chanhee had made the rounds hanging off the arm of a flustered Sangyeon, who'd tried his very best not to stammer through each conversation. Some especially tactless coworkers had actually gone so far as to comment on how lucky Sangyeon is to be dating someone as pretty as Chanhee, saying that he’d better _‘rock Chanhee’s world’_ later to say thank you for the outfit. They were probably patting themselves on the back afterwards for being progressive and supporting their sole gay coworker, sadly enough. Bradley from accounting had even thrown in a lecherous wink as the cherry on top of a clusterfuck of assumptions. 

Chanhee had laughed right in their faces at that. They didn’t get the joke. 

Clearly remembering that particular instance, Chanhee smiles sweetly, teasing the seam along Sangyeon’s thigh with the point of his pretty white shoes. “Ready to ‘rock my world’, are you?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “You _big, strong man,_ you. Going to throw me down on the bed and ravish me?”

Demurely, Sangyeon shakes his head. He loves it when Chanhee sets out to prove a point, and Chanhee oh-so-loves the proving. The moment Chanhee had closed their front door, Sangyeon had fallen to his knees in front of his husband without prompting. He’s kneeling still as he mentally recounts the party’s events. Chanhee likes him like this. 

“Answer me, darling,” Chanhee reminds him, snapping Sangyeon out of his daze. His voice is soft, but it is still dangerous just the same. Noticing Sangyeon looking down again, he grabs him by the hair and uses the leverage to tilt his face back up. The sole of Chanhee’s left shoe presses down briefly against the considerable bulge in Sangyeon’s pants, then moves away just as he starts to moan from it. “Going to use that big dick to fuck your husband silly, Sangyeonie? Going to blow my goddamn mind?”

“No.” Sangyeon goes to hang his head, but the hand in his hair prevents it. His scalp aches a little, and it makes his cock throb. “I’m not.”

Chanhee always gets antsy after an evening with Sangyeon’s horrible colleagues at the firm, and letting him fuck out the frustration has long proven to be the best course of action. Sangyeon thanks his past self for the foresight in getting ready for it earlier — even if Chanhee hadn’t needed the stress-relief, Sangyeon would have begged for it after seeing him dressed like this. But _oh,_ does Chanhee clearly need it. The tension has crawled right up into his shoulders, each catty comment from wine-drunk straight women and crude remark from their husbands adding to the strain throughout the evening. 

He rolls his neck, giggling when Sangyeon winces at the audible _crack._ “That’s right,” he says, smug as anything. Chanhee has every right to be, in this case. He has Sangyeon wrapped around his little finger, kneeling at his feet. “You’re _not._ And why is that?”

Sangyeon blushes, knowing exactly what Chanhee wants. It’s humiliating to say it out loud, but that’s precisely why his husband is prompting him to. Sangyeon gets off on the embarrassment, and Chanhee loves to see him all red and squirmy. A win win. Still, some lingering sense of silly pride makes him hesitate.

“You _know_ why, darling,” Chanhee coos, pulling his hair even harder than before. Almost enough to make him moan. “Say. It.”

“Because you fuck me better than I could ever fuck you.” Sangyeon blurts the words out in shame, but keeps them slow enough for clarity. If they jumble into one, Sangyeon knows from experience that Chanhee will only make him repeat himself. Multiple times, if necessary.

“Good.” It’s backhanded praise, but Sangyeon welcomes it. “I’m glad that you know your place, my darling.”

His foot is there again, like a reward. Sangyeon waits until Chanhee nods his assent before rocking up against it. The prim white shoes are so innocent in appearance, decadent against the backdrop of Sangyeon’s straining jeans, and they suit Chanhee’s feet so well. Sangyeon could see right up the pretty plaid skirt from this angle, were he daring enough to try it. He is not. He waits for Chanhee to call the shots, growing more desperate by the second as nothing is said. 

Sangyeon could (and _has,_ before) come just from the alternating pressure of Chanhee stepping on his cock. He has a feeling, however, that Chanhee has another ending planned for tonight. 

Sangyeon speaks up with that in mind, knowing how annoyed Chanhee will be with him if he lets this last long enough to come in his pants like a teenager. His husband is always devastating, but this outfit in particular puts Sangyeon especially at risk of doing so. “Baby,” he says, voice cracking halfway through. Chanhee’s love of that particular pet name is a constant, no matter which way they fuck. 

“Hm?” Chanhee replies with beautifully feigned disinterest, checking his nails and ignoring Sangyeon’s hips canting up against his Mary Janes. Ever since Sangyeon had confessed to enjoying being insignificant at times, Chanhee has delighted in indulging him. 

“How do you want me?” Sangyeon asks. Chanhee can’t help but look down at him then, his eyes eclipsed by dilated pupils. It lets across how much he wants him. Sangyeon basks in it.

One of Chanhee’s perfectly manicured nails traces the curve of Sangyeon’s jaw, leaving tingling in its wake. “Are you clean for me?”

_For him._ God, the way Chanhee says it like that drives Sangyeon insane. _Thank you, past self._ “I am.”

That gets him a pleased smile, and a slightly condescending ruffle of the hair. _“Good_ puppy.” His shoe moves away. Sangyeon misses its presence immediately, but knows he’ll be getting something far better. “In that case, I want you on our bed, and out of those horrible clothes.”

“Your wish is my command,” Sangyeon replies, tone playful as he stands. 

Chanhee flicks him on the nose for talking back. “I know it is,” he says, kissing the spot when Sangyeon pouts, “That’s why I said it. Now, go get naked if you want me to fuck you.”

Sangyeon kicks off his shoes and practically sprints to their bedroom, peals of sweet laughter sounding in his wake. 

  
  


♡♡♡♡♡

“You’ve had this in all evening?” Chanhee wonders, nimble fingers toying with the plug in Sangyeon’s ass. 

“Know how you get after dealing with those bastards at my office,” Sangyeon replies, trying to push his hips up towards his husband and pouting against the bedspread when Chanhee just moves his hand away for his efforts. Chanhee never cares much for Sangyeon trying to take more than he’s given— he shouldn’t have even tried it, no matter how desperate he is for Chanhee to just take the plug out and fuck him. It’s his mistake.

“Are you _really_ contractually obliged to go to office social events—” Chanhee teases, “— or do you go just 'cause you want me to ruin you after them? You know I’ll dress up for you without the need for a party, honey.”

Chanhee’s thumbs fit into the dips at the bottom of Sangyeon’s spine, making him shiver as he laments not being able to see them there; Chanhee’s hands always look lovely against his skin. Perhaps it’s for the best, however. Sangyeon doesn’t trust his stamina versus Chanhee in his pretty yellow outfit. “God, I _wish_ they weren't mandatory. I wanted to get out of there the second I saw you dressed like that.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Chanhee tuts. His hands move to Sangyeon’s asscheeks now, squeezing them and pulling them apart to better showcase the plug stretching him open. There’s an aqua-blue jewel embedded in it, heart shaped and pretty. Sangyeon bought it just for tonight. “Fucking _Marty McFly,_ Sangyeonie? Really?”

Sangyeon wants to make a pointed comment about how he has more self control than Chanhee— that _had_ been why he’d gone for classic comedy rather than sexy. Saying that out loud, however, would definitely get him edged as a pointed rebuttal. _Still think you have self control,_ Chanhee would taunt, laughing as Sangyeon begged. And as much as the thought of that makes Sangyeon’s cock drip onto their sheets, he wants to be fucked more than he wants Chanhee to be quite that cruel. 

“Sue me,” he says instead, safer, “I wasn’t aware that the theme was actually _Let’s Kill Our Husband.”_

“I’m dressing you next time,” Chanhee decides. He slaps one of Sangyeon’s asscheeks just for the fun of it, not hard enough to hurt. Sangyeon _wants_ it to hurt, really, but he stays patient. “Since you obviously can’t be trusted.”

It’s dangerous to agree to something like that with Chanhee, given he’ll probably try and dress him up as Sailor Moon or some shit, but there’s a finger tracing his rim and Sangyeon can’t think straight. “Fine by me, baby.”

“You’d agree to anything right now, wouldn’t you?” Chanhee has absolutely got Sangyeon’s number, there. “It’s sweet how desperate you still get.” 

“I think anyone would be, married to you.”

“Right answer,” Chanhee says, and Sangyeon can hear the smile in his voice. _Flattery will get him everywhere._ Gently — Chanhee is always gentle with this part — he eases the plug out of Sangyeon's ass. It makes a wet sound as it slides free, messy from earlier prep. Sangyeon hides his blush against the sheets as he hears Chanhee _aww,_ thumb tracing the swollen edge of him testingly. “So pretty.”

Sangyeon used to hate being called pretty. Chanhee has made it his favourite term of endearment. 

“Need you, baby,” he implores, arching his back just like Chanhee taught him to when they were first starting out. He’d been a mess back then, so unsure of what he wanted from life, of _who_ he wanted in it. Chanhee had coaxed every desire right out of him with sweet words and soft touches that grew increasingly less innocent over the course of their in-between stage. From casual acquaintances to lovers. To this. _“Chanhee.”_

Sangyeon hears the tell-tale hiss of air between teeth. Chanhee’s hand on his ass is suddenly far less gentle, nails digging into the soft flesh enough that it’ll surely bruise by morning. Beneath him, Sangyeon can’t help but moan, muffled by the press of his face into their sheets. 

“Gagging for it, aren’t you, darling?” Chanhee remarks, like he can’t quite decide whether to find the arch of Sangyeon’s back endearing or pathetically desperate. He’s trying to sound unaffected, and maybe Sangyeon of two months in would have bought it. The Sangyeon that’s been dating Chanhee for seven years, married for four, does not. It’s easier to tell when he can see him, but the ever-so-slightly strained edge to Chanhee’s voice gives him away. 

Besides, Sangyeon knows that Chanhee always wants him. Any time, anywhere. The pretty outfit he’s _still wearing_ isn’t just to shock Sangyeon’s coworkers, after all. “Need it, need _you,_ Chanhee,” he repeats, lifting up his head enough that his words are definitely clear. _"C'mon."_

Chanhee sighs like he’s disappointed, and discomfort crawls up Sangyeon’s spine with the desire to set it right. “Sangyeonie…”

“Yes?” Sangyeon sounds startled, rabbit-in-headlights, the whole shebang. 

“What do we say when we want something, darling? Be polite, now.” Chanhee deliberately digs his nails in even harder, knowing the sharp pain will help him focus. It’s a strange way to show that he cares, but they’ve never been entirely conventional.

The anxiety fades away. _It’s just a simple mistake._ “Please, _please,_ sorry I forgot to say it, didn’t mean t-”

Chanhee shushes him almost at once, satisfied. “It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” _Snap, click,_ and there’s a slick digit pushing against him. It’s cold, and Sangyeon takes that for what it is: a gentle punishment. Chanhee’s finger slides right in, Sangyeon’s hole already stretched enough for three. “Don’t forget it again though, puppy.” 

It’s a threat, and one Sangyeon knows Chanhee will have no qualms in following through. 

“I won’t,” he replies, moaning as another finger slips into him without resistance. “I promise, I promise, _please,_ Chanhee.”

“My baby’s so loose already.” Chanhee pushes a third finger past his rim, fucking them in and out at an idle pace as he runs his free hand soothingly down Sangyeon’s back. The prep doesn’t hurt; Sangyeon doesn’t _need_ the reassurance, but he sighs into it just the same. Chanhee teases his pinky against the stretch of his other fingers, giggling when Sangyeon moans and tries to push back. “Don’t be greedy, Sangyeonie.”

“It’s hard not to be greedy for someone like you.”

Chanhee leans down and kisses Sangyeon’s shoulder blade. He can feel him smile against it, fondness pressed to his heated skin like a secret. “Smooth talker,” Chanhee says, and Sangyeon knows he’s half-annoyed with himself for feeling charmed by it. His husband is always weak for praise. Sangyeon shamelessly exploits that fact. “Does my Sangyeonie really want another finger, though?” Chanhee hums, tracing the curve of Sangyeon’s spine with his mouth, “Or does he want something better?”

_Something better, something better, something better._ It spins around his mind, all-consuming. Still, he knows how this goes. “Your Sangyeonie wants anything you’re willing to give.”

_“Good_ puppy,” Chanhee curls his fingers up, jolting pleasure through Sangyeon’s body. He’s pleased with the answer, clearly. Obviously. Sangyeon knows what Chanhee likes. “I’ve taught you so well, my love.”

Chanhee's fingers withdraw from him. Sangyeon can’t help but whine at the empty feeling, even knowing what their absence leaves room for. And while Chanhee has a tendency to subvert expectations, this time he does not disappoint. Sangyeon’s desperate prayers to any deity that’ll listen bear fruition. Chanhee’s cock slides through the mess of lube he’s left around Sangyeon’s hole, rutting against the swell of his ass. The fabric of his skirt brushes against Sangyeon too, a mind-shattering reminder of the outfit that Chanhee is about to fuck him in.

“You want me to fill you up, baby?” Chanhee checks. Sangyeon knows what he means, both from his words and the press of a bare cock against his skin. He always wants it, wants _that_ whenever they have the time for cleanup after, but Chanhee always asks. Every time, without fail. It’s sweet. 

Chanhee himself doesn’t often want to be left dripping on the occasions Sangyeon is lucky enough to fuck him. He just likes to lay back and take it when their roles are reversed, lazily bossing Sangyeon around and teasing him for his sloppy desperation. Anything resulting in having cum cleaned out of his ass isn’t Chanhee’s idea of a good time, really, but he relents on special occasions. Sangyeon’s birthday, for example. Promotions at the office, too, when he wants to show _exactly_ how proud he is. 

_Sangyeon, however… He can’t get enough of it._

Cleanup be damned, it’s always worth it for those first few moments right after when he can feel it leaking right back out of him. Chanhee calls him gross for enjoying it, but Sangyeon knows better than to buy into his feigned disgust. He loves breeding him so much that there’s a whole locked folder on Chanhee’s phone dedicated just to pictures of it, in fact. Sangyeon’s mental stability hasn’t been quite the same since Chanhee casually admitted to jacking off to the assortment of photos whenever Sangyeon’s away too long on business trips. 

“I want it, I want it, _please,_ baby,” Sangyeon begs, as they’d both known he would. He’s nothing but predictable when it comes to the topic of Chanhee leaving him full. “Need it so bad, please, please, please.” 

Maybe he’s going over the top with the pleading, but he’s not risking it not being enough. 

Chanhee _mhms,_ the way he always does right before saying something that makes Sangyeon’s soul implode. “Need _what_ so bad, puppy? Use your words.”

Sangyeon groans, blushing so much that Chanhee’s probably even able to see it spreading to his neck, the tips of his ears, the sliver of his face that’s facing up. “I, uh, I-I-” This in particular chokes Sangyeon up like nothing else, the humiliation of saying words that come all too easy to his demon of a husband. He mumbles them against the mattress as a trial run, then forces himself to speak up. “Need your _cock,_ baby, need it so much. Please, please-”

“Please _what?”_ Chanhee emphasises the word again, merciless. "When I tell you to use your words, I expect you to use them _all."_

“... Please fuck me. God, Chanhee, I need you to fuck me.” Sangyeon’s cock drips, so wet it’s like he’s come already. The embarrassment courses through him, affecting him even worse than Chanhee with praise. It’s a weakness that Chanhee discovered near-immediately after their relationship turned sexual. Chanhee had teased him for how hard he was just from gentle touches one date night, and the shame had turned Sangyeon on so much that he’d come in his pants right there. In a goddamn movie theater, of all places.

There’s lips at his neck, trailing up to his ear where Chanhee pulls one of Sangyeon’s piercings between his teeth before he speaks. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, puppy?” he teases, lining up his cock blindly with one hand, his body still pressed close to Sangyeon’s back. The chain attached to the skirt is cold against Sangyeon’s flushed skin. “Good boy,” Chanhee murmurs, praise softer and sweeter than the words preceding it. A bite to Sangyeon’s earlobe, and then he’s leaning away, hands falling to circle Sangyeon’s waist as he sinks right in. 

It pushes the air out of Sangyeon’s lungs. Somehow, inconceivably after what must be thousands of times, Chanhee always makes it feel as new and exciting as it does familiar. “Oh, _fuck,”_ Sangyeon moans even louder than necessary, knowing Chanhee always has to hear him if he can’t see his face. “So good, baby, so good, please.”

“I know, puppy, I know,” Chanhee murmurs, squeezing Sangyeon’s waist a little tighter as he drinks up the desperation in his husband’s words. Nails dig in— Sangyeon hopes that they bruise. “Tell me when you’re ready to be ruined.” He’s cocky beyond belief, yet Sangyeon knows that he has every right to be. 

“I am already, baby, but-”

_“But?...”_

“Can I see it?” Sangyeon dares to ask. Willing to risk it because if his perfect, wet dream of a husband is going to fuck him in a skirt, Sangyeon wants to see how he looks while he does. Even though it’ll ruin him doubly. _Especially because it will._ As much as he loves Chanhee pushing his face down against the mattress while he fucks him, he doesn’t want to be like that tonight. “Can we- Facing the mirror?”

Chanhee holds his hips, pressing Sangyeon close against him so his cock doesn’t slip out from the movement, and they shuffle 90° or so until they’re facing in the right direction. It might be awkward if they were new to each other. _But they aren’t. So it isn’t._ Sangyeon pushes himself up onto all fours, glad he works out plenty enough to comfortably maintain it, and then _there they are._

Right there, reflected in high definition thanks to the mirror nearby. Sangyeon meets his own eyes, and then finally dares to look up. “Oh, _God.”_

Chanhee is so gorgeous. “I prefer ‘baby’, really,” he replies, and Sangyeon both loves and hates the way he can see the self-assured look on his perfect, pretty face. His smile is like sunshine, bright and beautiful and worthy of reverence. Blinding, if he wants it to be. “But I suppose I deserve that too, don’t I?”

And Sangyeon wasn’t calling Chanhee a god, they both know he wasn’t. Somehow, though, it’s a strange kind of turn-on to hear him claim it. “You do.” He really can’t argue with that. 

His husband is a _vision,_ that’s the simple truth. He’s divested himself of everything under the blazer, then pulled that back on for maximum effect, outfit still almost complete but Chanhee’s pretty torso bare. From behind himself, Sangyeon can catch a glimpse of the knee high socks. The skirt is bunched up a little where Chanhee’s cock sticks out from under it, brushing against Sangyeon from their close proximity. It’s quite the contrast, Sangyeon fully naked in front of Chanhee all dressed up, thick cock hanging flushed and desperate between his legs. _Useless,_ Sangyeon muses, and the thought sounds in his husband’s voice. Sangyeon watches Chanhee’s pretty lips move as he speaks. “Should I fuck you properly now, puppy?”

Sangyeon arches his back again, admiring both the curve of his body in the mirror and the way Chanhee looks down at Sangyeon like he wants to destroy him for it. “Baby, _baby,_ need it,” he pleads, so, _so_ far past desperate. “Fuck me, angel, please.”

There’s a glimpse of fondness there as Sangyeon meets Chanhee’s eyes through the mirror. Chanhee’s wedding ring glints in the overhead light. Soft, familiar. Then Chanhee smiles, less fond than downright terrifying. That’s all the warning Sangyeon gets before Chanhee pulls out and _slams_ back into him, hard enough that Sangyeon might have half-fallen off the bed were it not for Chanhee’s hands steady on his hips. “Like that?” he asks, as if Sangyeon would want anything other than hard and fast when Chanhee looks this sinful. Chanhee’s still teasing him, even now, and Sangyeon can’t say it surprises him.

“Just like that.” Sangyeon stares Chanhee’s reflection down. _Don’t forget it again though, puppy—_ Sangyeon wouldn’t dare. Still, he says it a little like a challenge: “Please.” 

Chanhee reaches under Sangyeon and pulls at his cock the next time he fucks into him, then takes his hand away. Another one of those subtle little punishments. _Chanhee Specials,_ ones that Sangyeon’s well attuned to. He pushes his ass back against Chanhee in retaliation, and gets the breath fucked out of him for his cheek. Chanhee knows exactly how to eviscerate Sangyeon in every conceivable position — they’ve tried them all out of curiosity, and this is nothing particularly _out there_ in that regard. Consequently, Chanhee is particularly proficient in fucking against Sangyeon’s prostate in this setup, should he so choose.

Until this moment, evading it has been a conscious decision. Equally conscious is the way Chanhee now shifts _just so_ behind him, hands vicelike at Sangyeon’s hips as he sets about ruining him in earnest. He’d promised it, after all, and Chanhee never lets Sangyeon down. It’s hard, rough, their bed groaning beneath them. A distant part of Sangyeon’s mind hopes absentmindedly that they don’t break this one, at least not for a while. They’d done so in Sangyeon’s old student flat, but that had hardly been a surprise with the shoddy quality he’d been able to afford on such a budget. It had just been an excuse to spend more nights at Chanhee’s place, so the caved in bedframe had been a blessing in disguise. Even though it’d given him splinters when he’d tried to salvage the mattress. 

His husband is stronger than anyone expects of him at first glance. 

Chanhee’s soft features bring with them an aura of delicacy, but Sangyeon knows better than to perceive him as frail. He’s being physically _pulled_ back onto his cock with each thrust, like a toy Chanhee’s using to get himself off. The deliberate positioning of their bodies disproves that, the drag of his cock against Sangyeon’s prostate making sure he feels just as much pleasure, but Sangyeon watches them in the mirror and thinks about it. _Imagines it._ He goes a little laxer, lets Chanhee manhandle him with ease, moans over and over. 

_Yours, yours, yours._

Sangyeon realises he’s been saying that out loud when Chanhee acknowledges it, gasping pretty behind him as he chases his release. “All mine,” he agrees, “My puppy, _my_ Sangyeonie, my love.” Chanhee’s fucking him rough and deep, and it’s not gentle missionary gazing-into-each-others-souls by anyone’s standards, but Sangyeon could still cry from it. Because Chanhee’s voice cracks just a little when he calls Sangyeon _love,_ and that’s well worth crying for. He looks down from Chanhee for half a moment, meets his own eyes, and realises that he already is. 

After each of these parties, Chanhee fucks him like he has a point to prove. Tonight, it feels more like he’s staking his claim. Sangyeon loves it. Sangyeon _loves_ it. Even after seven years, even disgusted by Sangyeon’s earlier costume choice, Chanhee still wants him this much. Sangyeon watches his tears falling onto their sheets, staining them darker, looking up only when Chanhee says his name, slowing almost to a stop. “Good tears, right?” he asks.

While Sangyeon crying when he gets fucked isn’t entirely _uncommon,_ per se, Chanhee always has to check. He’d worry if he didn’t, and Sangyeon adores him for it. “The best,” Sangyeon replies. Chanhee’s soft hand closes around his cock the moment he says it, a clear goal in mind as he once more picks up the pace. Sangyeon knows it’s because Chanhee’s legs are getting tired, partly, but he lets his thoughts lean into the desperation painted across his husband’s lovely features. 

Chanhee wants to come, and Sangyeon wants to be used for it. 

He braces himself on the bed and pushes back as best he can, less effort for Chanhee even though he’s still pulling Sangyeon against each thrust. It feels so good, so _perfect,_ and Sangyeon hadn’t been lying when he said he could never fuck Chanhee this well. Even with a cock like his, thick enough that Chanhee’s sweet hand barely stretches around it. Long enough that Chanhee had sworn the first time he saw him hard, something Sangyeon still teases him about.

Chanhee likes to mock him for it, knowing Sangyeon _wants_ him to. _Such a shame, isn’t it,_ he always sighs, _cock like that on someone that can’t use it._ It’s worst when Sangyeon rides him, audible slaps of his cock against his stomach punctuating every one of Chanhee’s words. He loves it, more than he’ll even admit. And perhaps reminiscing about Chanhee calling his cock useless isn’t the best course of action right now. Sangyeon is already on the very, _very_ edge, and he only wants to come after Chanhee has filled him up.

Chanhee being insufferably sexy is inescapable, though. It’s Sangyeon’s own fault for asking to be fucked in front of the mirror, but this is too lovely a sight to regret. Chanhee’s breath is coming out in huffs now, exertion and closeness combining into the prettiest little sounds. Even after years of marriage, Sangyeon marvels at the fact he’s the one to cause them. Not that he’s doing much of the work in this position; merely providing a hole to fuck into. At least Chanhee enjoys him. 

Chanhee sees Sangyeon watching them, and his teeth sink into his lower lip, muffling a needy, desperate whimper. If there’s anything Chanhee loves, it’s being revered, and Sangyeon knows it shows in his eyes. He'd worship Chanhee to the ends of the Earth. “I’m-” Chanhee chokes, so unbelievably beautiful when he’s rendered almost speechless, “I-”

“I know, baby,” Sangyeon replies, right before his own voice gives way to moans as he feels it. _Feels_ it. Chanhee’s head falls back, pretty neck arched and whole body trembling. Sangyeon watches it all, unable to tear his eyes away, captivated by the sight of Chanhee as he spills inside him. Reflexively, Chanhee’s hand tightens around Sangyeon’s cock, and that’s all it takes. 

He thinks he cries Chanhee’s name as he almost whites out, but that’s more of a reasonable assumption than anything based in certainty. When he refocuses, at least, he’s sure that he says _I love you._

Chanhee, though mid-filming Sangyeon’s hole as he pulls out of him, doesn’t hesitate to repeat it right back. “Should set something like this as my lockscreen,” he remarks offhandedly then, after airdropping the video to Sangyeon, “Then I can just whip out my phone every time someone assumes our bedroom dynamics at the next office party.”

“Chanhee.” Sangyeon’s voice sounds _wrecked,_ but the fond disbelief shines through loud and clear. He really doesn’t know how Chanhee comes up with these things. 

_“What?_ Are you saying that _wouldn’t_ do the trick?” Chanhee retorts. “It's to the point! I fuck him, here’s his hole, etcetera, etcetera... Has quite the drama factor, no?

Sangyeon turns onto his back, rolling his eyes at Chanhee as he stretches out his aching limbs. That position isn’t as kind on him as it used to be. Old bones, and all. “You are just _so…”_ he trails off, lost for words. 

“Perfect?” Chanhee fills in the blank, smiling oh-so-sweetly. It’s almost scary how good he is at acting innocent right after suggesting something like _that—_ after everything he’s just done to Sangyeon, even. His cum is leaking out and drying on Sangyeon’s thighs as they speak, for Christ’s sake. Chanhee leans in close, and kisses the tear tracks on Sangyeon’s flushed cheeks. His heart stutters, somehow falling all the more. “That’s what you were going for, right? I’m _perfect,_ aren’t I?”

“You're unbelievable,” Sangyeon settles for. Chanhee pouts. “Fine. Yes. You’re perfect, too.”

Chanhee beams, as he always does when he gets his way. “And don’t you forget it.” 

_Like Sangyeon ever could._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! i really hope you enjoyed my interpretation of this pairing - this is my third fic for tbz, but my first for them. please let me know what you think in the comments <3 kudos are lovely also
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/scbaes)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/scbaes)
> 
> -V xxx


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